Back then
by Cara Mia
Summary: Family life ain't easy, especially when you're part of THE Family. A Corinthos-Morgan smorgasbord of stand-alone chapters. Introductory tales of Amor y Sangre coming soon
1. Sleepin with the Fishes

Show: General Hospital 

Title: Back then

Chapter one: Sleepin' with the fishes

Summary: "You found WHAT?" The perils of snooping in a teenage boy's backpack - a vignette into the past.

X-X-X-X-X 

"You found _what_?" Alexis Davis stared at the man across from her, brown eyes wide. It was a good thing he had taken the mug of coffee away from her and set it on her desk. Otherwise she would have not only wasted premium caffeine (a crime she thought they should resurrect the rack for), but also ruined a four-hundred dollar cream silk blouse (that one was punishable by death).

Sonny Corinthos' jaw clenched and he settled his hands on his hips, a sure sign that he was pissed off. "_Condoms_ – in his backpack," he replied, his voice tight with anger.

"What were you doing looking through his stuff?"

Sonny looked at her incredulously. "I know you're a lawyer an' everything, counsellor, and you're into protecting your privacy an' all that, but he was a teenaged boy _alone_ with our daughter in her room - of _course_ I was gonna look through his stuff!."

Alexis grimaced. "How many were there?"

Sonny looked as if he'd sucked on a lemon. "Two… in a box."

We all know what that meant. There had been more where those two had come from.

Alexis sat down heavily, and worried her bottom lip, a trait that their daughter had inherited from her. "Do you think he used the others?" She continued anxiously, "I mean he _is_ a Spencer, he could've just nicked them from Luke," her tone was hopeful.

Sonny was not convinced. "If he's even _thinking_ about having sex with my daughter, he _better_ use them, not like he's even gonna get half a chance, after I _kill_ him.

"Sonny!" In his line of work, you just never could tell whether his threats were literal or not. She was his lawyer, but as an officer of the court, she didn't think it was ethical for her to know her client's motive was pre-meditated, even if completely justified.

"_What_?" he demanded to know, dragging his fingers through his hair, disrupting its usual order. "Am I not allowed to over-react about this? She's _sixteen_ and a Corinthos and a Cassadine! Do you remember what _we_ were doing at sixteen?" he asked, gesturing back and forth between them. "We were preparing to give birth!"

Alexis blanched. "Point taken."

"Spencer's fish food."

tbc...  



	2. Why I Don't Hate Valentine's Day

Chapter two: Why I really don't hate Valentine's Day

Summary: Elizabeth Corinthos muses on why the Feast of St. Valentine isn't so horrible

A/N: Keep in mind that this is an AH, and that I am scewing GH's timeline as well as the circumstances that surrounded Elizabeth's rape in 1998. Elizabeth was seventeen when Tom Baker attacked her on Valentine's Day; she and Lucky were a couple but, in this chapter, are broken up; Jason Morgan is who finds Elizabeth alone and broken in the bushes.

X-X-X-X-X

**Prompt: Cupid's aim is still pretty good**

Tom Baker stole my virginity, my innocence and, very nearly, my _soul_ on Valentine's Day.

I was seventeen years old and sitting on a bench in the park after hours, eating popcorn. Mom would've been proud of my choice of snack food. I'd given my guards the slip and was killing time, waiting until the eleven o'clock hour when I could waltz into the Lake House gushing about my night, and just how _great_ it had been.

How that trip to Wyndams, the manicure, pedicure and fancy hairdo had all been worth it. It'll only be a matter of time, Mom, before Lucky Spencer was falling to his knees worshipping the goddess that was _me_, Elizabeth Corinthos.

We'd broken up the week before, but now I wanted him back. He was Emily's escort for the night. They were planning to meet for dinner at Kelly's. I had planned to crash their dinner and guilt him into escorting both of us to the dance.

_Fat chance_….

Lucky was by now probably sticking his tongue down the throat of the epitome of blonde perfection known as Sarah Webber. Getting the girl _and_ thumbing his nose at his brother, my cousin.

He had backed out of dinner at the last, calling to beg off. Emily only shrugged - she didn't mind going stag and I tagged along, only to see my ex-boyfriend in an intimate tete a tete with the bane of my existence.

Common sense prevented me from causing a scene bad enough to get me expelled from yet another school. Pride prevented me from going home.

But I'm not bitter, I concluded as I tossed the bag away. I'm a _Corinthos_. I'll get _even_. I stood up, and then that son-of-a bitch pounced.

So, if on Valentine's Day Tom Baker stole my virginity, my innocence, and every year since then hadn't been a walk in the park what with fires, numerous gun battles and a train wreck, you'd reckon a girl would want to crawl into a hole every year and stay put 'til the fifteenth, right?

Wrong.

I'm not most girls… given who my father is, even without Tom Baker, my innocence probably wouldn't have lasted very long.

But that's all beside the point. I can stomach it, 'cause I'm strong, 'cause even though that sick bastard stole something so precious from me, he couldn't grab my heart, he couldn't taint my soul.

Everything good within me is saved for the man at the bar in black leather: Jason Morgan. The man who had picked my bruised and broken body up from the frozen ground, dried my tears, and helped me put myself back together so long ago. The man who, on Valentine's Day two years earlier on my nineteenth birthday, had given it all back to me in the most fundamental way and gifted me with a girl's best friend.

Diamonds?

No. My first real orgasm. And he wasn't, and _still_ isn't, stingy.

He, too, gave me a little of himself. A gift so precious, one that I have no intentions of relinquishing.

So, it's official: this day ain't so bad.

Tom Baker's in jail, ruing the day he decided to quite literally fuck with the wrong person. I'm not in the hospital, I'm staying well away from the Elm Street Pier, and I don't have any plans to leave the city anytime soon, so I should be safe.

Now, if only the blonde at the bar would look over to the door. He does, and a fire ignites in those fuck-me blue eyes.

I'm comin' honey, and soon you will be, too. I hope you like what I've got on under this trench coat...

tbc...


	3. Worth it

Chapter three: Worth it

Summary: You really fucked up this time, Morgan.

**Prompt: Better Than a Poke in the Eye with a Sharp Stick.**

X-X-X-X-X

"She doesn't want to see you." Alexis stood like a sentinel in the doorway of the Lake-house, her body language clearly evident that he was not welcome.

He'd known that would have been the case, but to hear Alexis announce it so bluntly, hurt the heart he thought she'd ripped out when she'd walked away two days ago. "I figured as much," his voice was low, a hairsbreadth away from cracking, "but I just wanted to check on her. She was so upset -"

"She'll be fine. She's strong." Alexis interjected.

"Right," Jason conceded, and swallowed the lump in his throat. Elizabeth _was_ strong but she wasn't unbreakable. And break was what she'd very nearly done that afternoon as she railed at him in PH2.

"You should go," Alexis continued pointedly. "I'll tell her that you stopped by."

"Don't," he said softly. "I don't think that's such a good idea."

Alexis nodded in agreement. "Maybe you're right," she conceded.

She looked miserable, he noticed. Her eyes were bleak as she held a protective hand to her swollen abdomen. He'd been surprised to see her at the funeral. Carly had been furious, and he'd thought that Alexis had only been there to support her daughter, or been like Taggert, there only to see if Sonny was really gone.

Now, looking back at it, she'd looked as grief-stricken as Carly. His friend was a terrific actress, but Alexis's grief had been real. Even as part of him tried to deny it, he knew that she would always care, despite the bad blood. There was so much between Sonny and Alexis that no one, not even them, could truly understand.

"What about you?" he asked softly.

Her brown eyes flew up to meet his, wary at the concern swimming in the cerulean depths. He'd never been concerned or tender with her. Amused, annoyed, angry, _yes_, but _never_ tender. Those were emotions conserved for those close to him – Sonny, Michael, Emily, Lila, Elizabeth. Despite her many years of working with him, despite her connection to Elizabeth, she had never counted herself among that lot.

"I-I'm fine," she replied haltingly. She took a deep breath, "Why wouldn't I be?"

Jason's blue gaze was piercing. She looked away and her voice, when she spoke was weary, "For what it's worth, I'm glad Sonny's not dead, Jason."

Jason nodded in understanding and turned to leave when her voice stopped him again.

"I hope it was worth it." He paused on the steps off the porch and turned to face her, her frame silhouetted in the doorway. "What you did." Alexis clarified. "Elizabeth didn't tell me everything, but I'm not blind or deaf. I know it has something to do with Sonny and your... _loyalty_ to him."

She paused and bit her lip, a trait so much like Elizabeth that he was forced to look away. "I hope for your sake at least that whatever choice you made was worth it."

Their eyes met and held. He remembered Elizabeth's voice, full of anger, full of sorrow and her face, etched with tears upon discovering his betrayal.

He felt the knot in his throat and the ache in his chest where his heart used to reside.

_Was_ it worth it?

They both knew it was not.

Alexis looked even sadder, but nodded and closed the door, turning to face her daughter, who had seen and heard everything.

Outside in the cool night air, Jason closed his eyes, took a deep breath and walked away.

tbc...


	4. Bad Medicine

Chapter Four: Bad medicine

Summary: The anger and distrust have thawed between Sonny and Alexis. They're once again comfortable with each other, bickering and interacting like two parents on good terms, like two people wrapped in the safe cocoon of friendship and on the cusp of something _more._ Cue Carly's paranoia and Jason's inevitable interference.

A/N: This chapter wouldn't be here if not for the help of the girls at FW and the SE:WB. You know who you are, so thanks a million!

**Prompt: Ice**

X-X-X-X-X

"Are Sonny and Alexis having an affair?" The question was as she'd come to expect from him – blunt and borderline glacial. A tone so far removed from the one reserved solely for her a lifetime ago.

It hurt that he'd spoken to her in his infamously cold Borg monotone. And after all this time, the fact that this rawness still existed only served to exacerbate her anger.

Jason had been waiting for her at the Elm Street Pier, knowing that she and Francis would be making their way to her studio after closing Kelly's for the night. He stood by the water, hands in his pockets, the cool summer wind from the harbour barely rustling the spikes of his dark-blonde hair.

"I need to speak with Elizabeth," was all he said, before waiting pointedly for the guard to leave them alone. Francis melted back into the shadows, mentally cringing at the thought of the inevitable confrontation between the two former lovers.

Elizabeth wisely held her tongue as the two males switched roles, with Jason escorting her to her studio instead, and waiting patiently as she let him inside behind her. Meanwhile, her anger at being corralled bubbled volcanically just below the surface.

They both realised belatedly that it was the first time they'd been alone in almost a year. The sharp sweet scent of turpentine brought back memories of their first kiss, of the first time they'd fallen asleep in each others' arms.

Instant heat flooded his veins at the memory of their last time, naked and slick with sweat as they made love on the lumpy couch in the corner. Jason blinked the X-rated images away, getting straight to the point. Gruff, abrupt and cold. Everything but what he was truly feeling at the moment.

"Why should I tell you?" Elizabeth scoffed, hands on her slender hips. "You'll only report back to your keeper."

Annoyance flared behind ice-blue eyes. They both knew who she referred to and he resented the implication.

It pleased her to see some level of emotion from him beyond cold indifference.

"Carly is his _wife_, Elizabeth."

She snorted. "Oh please, spare me, Jason! She shoves that fact down my throat practically every time we see each other; I don't need _you_ to do it for me." Sapphire blue eyes ignited in a flash of anger. "You do know that if my _darling_ stepmother hadn't pulled that stunt with her car going over that cliff, she never would have weaseled back into my family."

Jason's eyes widened in surprise before he quickly hid behind his patented blank mask.

But he couldn't fool her. Even after all this time.

Elizabeth shook her head distastefully and released a bark of incredulous laughter. "It was only a _suspicion_ but, now, I can only surmise that there is some truth to it. Why am I even surprised? It _is_ Carly after all. It's your _duty_ to clean up her messes."

She paused, cocking her head in mock thoughtfulness before turning the full glare of her cutting gaze on him once more. "Tell me, does my Dad know about that latest stunt?"

Jason said nothing. His silence was all the answer she needed.

"Ask me again, Jason," Elizabeth invited. Her saccharine tone could not disguise the venom that lurked within, her smile nothing short of predatory.

He could not deny that she was indescribably beautiful when angry, that she stirred some primal desire to halt her hostility with his lips, to calm the storm of her anger with his body.

"C'mon, ask me again," her tone was increasingly incensed. Dark brows slanted over stormy blue eyes and a rosy flush tinged her cheeks. A fat chestnut curl slipped over her shoulder drawing his attention to the rounded curves of her breasts.

She was _spectacular._

But, she was no longer his. And, if her body language was any indication, she didn't _want_ to be.

Coming here had been a mistake. He was trying to pre-empt Carly, yes, but the primary reason had been because part of him yearned for any interaction with her that did not leave him cold in the face of her frigid indifference.

But this thinly veiled hostility was so far removed from the time when she'd force fed him soup, or he'd taught her the correct way to swing a bat or told her that the light in Italy was like no place else in the world.

He refused to bait her further, failing to realise that his taciturn response only served to further infuriate her.

When he remained steadfastly silent, Elizabeth snapped. "You know what, Jason? Don't bother!" She stomped over to the heavy steel door, an affectionate safeguard from another lifetime, and yanked it open.

It was a less than subtle cue for him to get the fuck out.

They locked eyes as he acquiesced to her unspoken request. "This was a mistake," he muttered. Anger, hurt and frustration roiled between them in palpable waves.

Elizabeth looked up and away from him, as hot tears threatened. "It never used to be," she said softly.

Jason paused abruptly. He yearned to reach out, to place a palm on her silky cheek, to draw her gaze to his. But he suspected that his touch would be unappreciated.

She cursed her momentary weakness, visibly drawing her strength about her. "But, it's all different now, isn't it?" she asked bitterly. "At least your pandering to Carly is the same.

"Truth is, I don't know, nor do I really _care_," Elizabeth finally responded to his initial question, blue eyes snapping with acidic resentment. "And I really couldn't give a flying fuck that she's my father's wife, either. If she thinks my parents are having an affair, ask your friend Carly how it feels to have a taste of her _own_ medicine for a change!" His eyes snapped up to meet hers and the steel door closed with a resounding bang.

Even he could appreciate the metaphor that her heart, too, would deny him entrance.

TBC…


	5. Underage

Chapter Five: Underage

Summary: A new bartender, fake ID, and two sixteen-year-old girls is a recipe for disaster.

**Prompt: That's what little girls are made of...**

X-X-X-X-X

"New bartender," Jake said by explanation.

"Tell him he's fired." Jason Morgan's blue eyes were hard as he took in the scene at the bar.

Two dark-haired girls propped against each other for support by the scarred countertop, giggling hysterically at nothing in particular. Jason knew neither would find things so amusing in the morning when they were laying offerings to the Porcelain God but, for now, _breathing _was comic relief.

"I only let them stay because _you_ said it would be alright," Jake pointed out.

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I didn't say it was alright to let them drink. They're underage, Jake."

"_I _didn't give them alcohol," she shot back defensively. "I was in the back, doing the books. He said they had ID."

"Christ, Jake! Every teenager in this town has a fake ID! Doesn't he know who she is?" he asked incredulously.

Jake shrugged. He did _now_. "Like I said, he's new. You want five minutes in the back alley to introduce yourself?"

Blue eyes narrowed on his old friend, as he seriously considered her offer.

A crash followed by a raucous burst of laughter took the decision from his hands. Emily had toppled from her stool, dragging Elizabeth with her. The two laid tangled up with one another on the sticky kernel strewn floor and were laughing uncontrollably.

"Jesus," Jason muttered. He made his way over to his sister and her best friend, who also happened to be his partner's daughter.

The two were a volatile combination. Elizabeth was usually a good sport, by all reports, if a bit outspoken. But since becoming friends with his baby sister, she had no qualms about ditching her guards to wreak havoc with the youngest Quartermaine on the poor unsuspecting citizens of Port Chuck.

"Alright, Quartermaine," Jason said, kneeling beside his sister. "Wanna swap the floor for a mattress? I bet it'll be a lot more comfortable."

"Jason?" Emily slurred in question, as her brother gently helped her to sit up.

"Jason? Where?" Beside her, Elizabeth Corinthos perked up, her laughter stuttering to an abrupt halt. "Oh my God," she moaned pitifully, catching sight of the man in question, "my dad is gonna _crucify_ me."

A helpless smile bloomed across his face for a millisecond before Jason remembered that he was a badass and was angry with the two girls for betraying his trust in them. "Yeah, he will, if tomorrow's hangover doesn't get you first." His voice was stern as he helped her to her feet, too.

"Hangover? What hangover? Are you implying that we're drunk? We weren't drinking," Emily cried indignantly.

Elizabeth dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"Right…." Jason trailed off.

"Honestly, Jase, how could you (hic) think that we would (hic) betray the faith you put in (hic) us to (hic) behave repon – response – responsibiliby if (hic) Jake let us stay?"

"Yeah, Jason," Elizabeth turned big blue eyes on her friend's brother, "how (hic) could you?"

Jake coughed to cover the laugh that threatened to spill over.

Jason's eyes narrowed further. "I don't know what came over me," he conceded in mock apology as he helped the two girls to the door.

Jake followed and handed him two handbags. "Put it on my tab," Jason said, not quite sure what to do with the feminine bags. Sparkles and canvas didn't really mesh well with battered leather jackets and motorcycle boots.

"I'll let it slide if you let my bartender live," she said, only half-joking with her request. You never could tell with Morgan.

"Okay, (hic) so maybe we _were _drinking a (hic) little," Emily admitted once they'd settled into the black SUV waiting for them outside.

Francis's amused brown eyes met Jason's in the rearview mirror. Did she realise she was drooling?

"Tell Juan he did a great job on the IDs," Elizabeth slurred, kicking off her wedge sandals and snuggling up to her friend.

Jason's jaw clenched. The greasy little weasel had just moved way up his shitlist.

"I'm not (hic) telling Juan a damn thing (hic)! Bastard!"

"Oh yeah, right, I forgot! Bastard!" she commiserated with her friend.

_That_ he could agree with.

"So," Emily turned eagerly to her brother, "where're we going? Some place more fun? I really think Jake had a stick up her ass tonight. I'm up for (hic) more! We've got ID!" she announced gleefully.

"The only place you're going is Disco Springs," Jason replied exasperatedly, coining one of Carly's Podunk phrases for going to bed.

"Oooh," Emily drawled excitedly, "is that (hic) new? I've never (hic) heard of it before."

Jason heaved a long-suffering sigh. "I'm taking you _home_, to _bed_, Em, where you _both _should be," he said pointedly, ineffectively skewering Elizabeth with his blue-eyed gaze.

"Home?" she exclaimed in horror. "No!"

"Yes."

"No!"

"_Yes_."

"Jeez, _bossy_," Elizabeth said petulantly, her nose wrinkling delicately.

Jason looked over at her. "You have _no _idea."

Elizabeth's eyes widened imperceptibly at the husky quality of his voice and her gaze dropped to his lips for a heated second before quickly flicking back up to his eyes.

Sudden tension crackled between the two before an unladylike snore shattered the spell. Elizabeth giggled. Emily had fell asleep, head lolling against her friend's shoulder, with mouth wide open, which accounted for the sounds of a lumberjack at work.

Jason quickly looked away, inwardly cursing his reaction to the moment. She was _sixteen_! _Drinking_ wasn't the only thing she was underage for.

The blessed quiet continued on the journey from the waterfront to the Quartermaine mansion. Jason looked out the window, not really seeing the nighttime scenery as they sped along the country road. As the quiet lengthened with the confines of the vehicle, Jason felt it safe to finally look at his two backseat companions, his volatile emotions in check once more, only to meet a pair of disconcertingly aware sapphire-blue eyes.

Elizabeth's smile was secretive and all too knowledgeable for comfort. She said softly so Francis wouldn't overhear, "You know, Morgan, one of these days, you're gonna _love_ it when I get drunk."

Jason swallowed hard and looked away, willing the car to move faster.

He couldn't exactly make it known that that day had come and gone.

TBC…


	6. Interlude

Chapter Six: Interlude

Summary: As the battle lines are drawn, Jason Morgan and Elizabeth Corinthos take some time to just be.

A/N: This is another 'glimpse' into the Corinthos-Morgan not-so-AU circa 2002, around the time when Jason was scoping out Luis Alcazar's yacht before all hell broke loose. Things to note: Elizabeth and Jason have been a couple for nearly a year, and she has been living in PH2 with him for three months. An amnesiac Zander is also not an unwelcome houseguest.

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SEXUAL CONTENT. IF YOU ARE OFFENDED BY SUCH, I SUGGEST THAT YOU SIT THIS ONE OUT.**

**Prompt: In the darkest hour the soul is replenished and given the strength to continue and endure.**

X-X-X-X-X

The first strands of scarlet streaked across the dark blue of the sky, heralding the coming dawn. Soon, the scarlet would lighten to pink, and the pink to yellow and cerulean as the sun and the rest of their world woke up.

As was the habit for close to a week, Jason had still been gone in the wee hours of the morning when Elizabeth had grudgingly given up waiting for him to come home. She had filched one of his t-shirts and slid between the crisp cotton sheets of their king-sized bed. It was entirely too big and too cold for her alone, and she fell into troubled slumber, her worry for her absent boyfriend stark in her mind as she wrapped herself around his pillow.

Some time between the darkness of night, and the promise of a new day, Jason came home, trudging up the carpeted penthouse stairs into his bedroom. Milky beams from the waning moon streamed across the bed, bathing Elizabeth in an ethereal glow. A frown marred her smooth brow even in the depths of slumber, and Jason felt a tug of guilt, knowing he was the cause of her worry. He quietly undressed and slipped in beside her, drawing her close, allowing her warmth, her scent, her softness to lull him to sleep.

Now, a few hours later as the darkness bled away in the quietness of their bedroom, they lay awake, though unspeaking. Minutes before, Jason had slipped his shirt up and over her head and now Elizabeth lay on her stomach in the near dark and shivered as he trailed his fingers lightly up and down the ridge of spine

On one trip, they continued further down and he ran his hands gently over her naked rear. Her limbs felt heavy and there was a tender ache between her thighs. She felt the heat ignite low in her belly as Jason continued his feather-light caresses.

Jason's knuckles slid up her thigh, past the curve of her hip, into the shallow dip of her waist, up to the swell of her breast, over the roll of her shoulder and back down the length of her spine, leaving a trail of flames where his fingers made contact with her smooth flesh.

Without warning, he slipped his fingertips along the rim of cleavage that divided her derriere before skimming beneath to cup the warmth of her pubis in a strong palm. His actions wrung his name in a low aroused moan from her lips as, simultaneously, he slid his knee along the backs of her thighs, planting a soft kiss on her shoulder. Elizabeth felt the gentle nip of teeth on her flesh, which he soothed with his tongue even as he applied a soft pressure on her mound and coaxed her onto her knees.

Her breathing escalated, the only sounds other than the rustling sheets in the quiet room. He knew she was aroused, and she felt his satisfied smile in the rasp of his stubble on her sensitive skin. The evidence was on his fingers, two of which he slid deep into her for three agonisingly pleasurable seconds before he trailed the wet digits up her spine again. Elizabeth's hands bunched in the bed sheets as she felt Jason's weight shift on the bed and then heard the tell-tale sound of foil ripping in the dark.

Seconds later, those hands settled on her hips and Elizabeth couldn't have prevented the submissive arch of her back that presented the glistening petals of her core to him even if she'd wanted to. She heard a masculine growl of desire from behind and smirked, pleased to know that she affected him as much as he did her. Looking back over her shoulder at him, she snapped the last reins of his legendary self-control with the unspoken demand in her smoldering blue eyes.

Without hesitation Jason thrust smoothly into her warm depths to the hilt. He wasn't gentle. There was no need – he knew that she could handle his aggression, and would not deny him. He needed to revel in her heat, to reassure himself that she was here, that she safe, that she was _his_.

They moved sinuously together, their dance as old as time. Elizabeth could feel the fingers of her orgasm uncoiling in her core, signalling that she would soon be on her way to heaven as Jason's thrusts quickened. She knew that if he continued at that pace, at that depth, at that angle, it would be a lot sooner than she'd anticipated.

Sensing that she was close, he did just that, clever fingers strumming her pearl of pleasure, causing the dam holding her back to break. Elizabeth's pleasured cry filled the air as her orgasm ripped through her. Her arms collapsed, unable to support her weight and only his grip on her hips kept her upright as her body took absolute control, her brain an overwrought receptor of pleasure from every single nerve ending in her body.

Jason tried to fight through the layers of her pleasure but in the end he, too, was lost. Her name fell from his lips as his thrusts deepened. Settling back on his haunches, a hand reached up and tangled in her dark mane, hauling her head up and back to meet his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut and a look of absolute pleasure crossed his face as he reached his own peak, triggering another orgasm for Elizabeth.

With a strong arm around her waist, Jason clutched her tight to him and delighted in the strong squeeze and pull of her inner muscles as she wrung every last ounce of his essence from his body. Unable to support them both anymore, his sweat-slicked body collapsed on hers in the bed. Turning her face on the pillow, Elizabeth tried to catch her breath, whilst delighting in the pleasure of his weight on her back.

Some time later, she felt soft kisses against her wet shoulder. Jason was still inside her. It felt good. She tilted her head up and their lips met. Gently, lingeringly, his tongue slipped possessively into her mouth before he reluctantly pulled away. In the time that they'd been wrapped in each other, dawn had broken and pale morning sunlight spilled over the still-sleeping town of Port Charles.

She closed her eyes, lethargically settling back onto the pillow. Again she felt the lingering trail of his fingertips along her spine, before the full weight of his palm pressed against the small of her back providing him leverage to slide slowly out of her. She moaned softly at the loss of contact and Jason pressed a soft kiss between her shoulder-blades.

Elizabeth felt the bed shift as he got up and left it, heading into the room's ensuite bathroom. With a heavy sigh, she checked the time – 6:20 a.m. – and rolled onto her back, crossing an arm over her eyes. She was exhausted, her body ached, and she yearned to lock the door, unplug the phone and stay wrapped in the cocoon of their Egyptian cotton sheets all day. But even as she wished it, she knew it was nigh on impossible – a war was on the horizon. She was lucky Jason had even woken her up before he all but disappeared for the day.

He reappeared in the doorway, deliciously nude, his blue eyes riveted to hers. She propped up on her elbows to bestow a sleepy smile on him. His answering smile was strained as he slid back in beside her.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked huskily. Those were the first real words he'd spoken to her since yesterday.

"No," Elizabeth turned on her side facing him and shook her head reassuringly. She slid closer to him, sliding her thigh up until it rested over his hip, pulling their bodies flush against one another.

Jason heaved a tired sigh and wrapped his arms around her, fingers once again trailing up and down her spine. "I'm sorry about the last few days," he whispered apologetically his lips brushing the base of her throat. "I'm sorry that you were worried. I–"

"Shhh," Elizabeth soothed him softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "You're here now. That's all that matters." She smoothed back his sweat-slicked hair and kissed him softly, pouring all the love in her heart into it.

Jason kissed her back desperately. He didn't know when next he would see her. He would use her kiss to tether him to the light even as his job would force him ever closer to the edge of darkness. Elizabeth moaned as he pulled her still closer and turned onto his back, his hands tangled in her chestnut curls as he feasted on her mouth, their kiss spinning rapidly out of control.

Just then, however, the electronic trill of a cellphone shattered the spell between the two. Jason pulled away reluctantly and turned frustrated eyes to the phone as it vibrated on the bedside table. With the war with Alcazar heating up, he knew he had no choice but to take the call.

Elizabeth slipped off to the other side of the bed as Jason sat up, presenting his broad back to her as he flipped open the phone.

"Morgan." It was the voice of the Borg – cold and controlled, giving the caller no indication of his current frame of mind.

She flopped back onto her pillow and debated the merits of more sleep, yet knowing she would be able to relax with him gone.

Jason ended his call and turned apologetic blue eyes on her. "I have to go," he announced gruffly.

Elizabeth nodded and sat up. She'd surmised as much. "I know." She watched as he hurried through his morning routine, showering and dressing quickly. He sat at the foot of the bed and tugged on his motorcycle boots before reaching into the bedside and pulling out his pistol, checking the magazine and the safety before slipping it in the waistband of his jeans.

He was pressed for time, yet he could not bring himself to leave as he stood silent staring down at her. Elizabeth sat up on her knees, sliding to the edge of the bed before him with the sheets bunched under her arms. "Be safe," she cautioned softly.

She pressed a sweet lingering kiss to his lips in parting.

"I'll see you later," he replied, not knowing when exactly that would be as he left the room, then the penthouse.

Elizabeth buried her face in her hands. One could only hope.

X-X-X-X-X

Well…? Review, please.


	7. Third Time's the Charm

Chapter Seven: Third time's the charm

Summary: It's been a full two years in the making, and wholly inevitable and unstoppable – Carly's worst nightmare.

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, Sexis fans! Last year (I can't believe this fic is a year old), Liason fans got the props, so I figured you guys deserved something, too. Minor things to note are that Ric and Alexis are business partners, but they are not romantically linked; Sonny and Carly are married.

**Prompt: Mark… Set… Go!**

X-X-X-X-X

The first time was spontaneous – spur of the moment and completely unexpected. One moment they had been bickering good-naturedly about her tripling her fee at his next arrest, the next she had been laid out on his desk with her thighs wrapped around his waist as he rocked rhythmically into her again and again.

She had been mortified to say the least. She had pushed him up and off her, her face bright red as she tried to fix her skirt. Her hair had tumbled out of its bun at the nape of her neck, her lips were swollen from his kisses and she was still breathing erratically. The sight and scent of her was so arousing that, even as she babbled her excuses, he could feel his body gearing up for round two.

His pants were still undone, so she noticed.

"Oh, God," she squeaked weakly, her brown eyes wide.

He grinned, dimples out in full force. She'd said the same thing, just moments before as she climaxed, and he wouldn't mind hearing it again, preferably punctuated with his name at the end.

"No." She'd shaken her head forcefully and bolted.

The second time was inevitable – _her_ office this time. Being a gentleman, he'd visited to return the panties she'd left his office without. It was a week later and she'd avoided him like the plague. He'd finally landed her when his brother was away on business and he knew that she would be working late in her office – _alone_.

She had looked like an enthralled deer when he let himself into her office unannounced and locked the door behind him. For long moments neither said anything. His dark eyes were hot and unwavering on her mouth. She swallowed and her breathing deepened. Her eyes had closed tightly and she bit her lip to smother a helpless moan when he lifted her panties from his jacket pocket, the black lace looking ridiculously feminine hanging from his finger.

_That_ time, they'd remembered to use a condom, as they'd been in too much of a hurry the first-time round.

By the fourth time, they had acknowledged the fact that it was becoming a habit. One would pay a visit to the other, for one legitimate reason or another and, nine times out of ten they would end their meeting with him buried deep inside her and his name on her lips. The best times, however, were when she didn't have the excuse of business as a cushion, when _she_ sought _him _out solely for the pleasure of being with him.

Days like today.

He hadn't seen her in the seven days he had been with Jason in Puerto Rico. He ached for her. He had been thinking about her and how to orchestrate their next meeting when she let herself in and locked his office door behind her. She hesitated just beyond the threshold, not because she was afraid that they would be caught, which on one level she _was_, but because she always wondered, especially when _she _was the instigator, if today would be the day that Sonny rejected her. After all, it _had _happened before.

But, there was no rejection today.

His eyes flared incandescently as they tracked her path across the expanse of his warehouse office. Outside, the busy sounds of the loading dock faded into insignificance as she stood before him, looking down as he sat in his leather chair.

She reached up and removed the silver clasp that kept her hair in place. He licked his lips in anticipation as her chestnut mane tumbled around her shoulders. His hands settled on her knees and, staring into her eyes, slipped under her skirt, tracing over the smooth flesh of her thighs.

_She wasn't wearing any panties_.

His eyebrows skyrocketed and an answering blush stained her high cheekbones. Sonny quickly unzipped his trousers and jerked her onto his lap. She rode him hard and fast, angling herself so that he hit that sweet spot deep inside each time she reached the hilt. He gorged himself on her mouth as he lifted his hips to meet each of her downward thrusts. Alexis would have screamed his name and more as she came, but she caught herself in time and bit down hard on her lip instead. He came with her, cresting so hard he saw stars.

He was so far gone.

This shouldn't even be happening.

He, who waxed lyrical about fidelity and the perils of betrayal was, yet again, an adulterer.

He was a fucking hypocrite.

_Literally_.

Even _he _could appreciate the irony.

They trembled in each other's arms. Something beyond words, beyond the betrayal of the sanctity of marriage, lay between them.

_Whatever _it was, it was fucking _scary_.

Love had screwed them over royally in the past, and it seemed ready and willing to do it again.

TBC…

X-X-X-X-X

A/N: Review, please.


	8. Tear my heart out

Chapter Eight: Tear my heart out

Summary: Elizabeth confronts her father following his miraculous return from the 'dead'.

A/N: Cast your mind back to late 2002, a tough year to be a Liason fan. It was the beginning of the end for Jason and Elizabeth and the start of the Journey train. We all know what happened following Elizabeth's confrontation with Jason on the show – she walked out on him, tossing out the infamous cutthroat "First, last, always." comment. This chapter follows the confrontation between them that is alluded to in _Chapter Three: Worth it_, as well as a much needed, though short, scene between father and daughter.

The flashback within this chapter contains actual dialogue excerpts from the show, which will be noted with italics. But, as some of you will be able to tell, to fit into the AU, I have taken some artistic license.

Thanks to **Jill**, my partner-in-crime and fellow WABFF&TB, for being my eyes and ears for this chapter.

**Prompt: The cruelest cut of all**

X-X-X-X-X

Tension crackled in the air, volatile and explosive. Repressing emotion was near physically impossible for them both, thus they knew that this confrontation was inevitable. Just as they both knew instinctively that something had fractured, perhaps irreparably, between them.

As Elizabeth stood just beyond the threshold of PH4, she cast her mind back a mere twenty-four hours as she watched her life, trust and love all spiral away from her. As she picked up her suitcases and walked away from the one person she had trusted above all others….

_Tears of anger stung behind her eyes and threatened to spill over, but her voice, when she spoke, was strong. "__Let me save you the trouble of stonewalling," Elizabeth said coolly. "I already know Sonny's alive, Jax has been shot, and Brenda's back. Does that cover all the __real__ reasons you've been gone at night while I sat here wondering whether you were dead or alive?" **x**_

_Ever stoic, Jason's reply was even. "It was just supposed to be a couple of days."**x **_

_Elizabeth's eyes widened incredulously and she shook her head in disbelief. "Do you think any of this is acceptable?" -__  
_

"_I don't know what you mean."**x**_

_Fury leapt into her voice and was echoed in fierce sapphire eyes. "Staging big, elaborate hoaxes! Setting people up to grieve for no reason or worrying themselves __sick__ for nothing? What goes through your head?"**x**_

_She held up a hasty hand. "You know what? __Don't__ answer. I already know the answer, okay? And I've heard it plenty – you were just doing what you had to do. Didn't matter if anyone else was devastated."**x**_

_Elizabeth paused, her thoughts going to her little brother and her stepmother, and the bond they seemed to have formed in the midst of their common grief. "God, I could only imagine what Carly must have been going through."**x**_

_Jason swallowed hard, breaking eye contact, knowing that his next few words would hit her hard. He braced himself for her reaction. "No, Carly knew that Sonny was alive," he admitted softly. "That's what Sonny wanted."**x**_

The tears finally spilled over, a crystalline waterfall over pale cheeks. Fury bled into shock and raw hurt as the meaning of Jason's statement hung between them like a malevolent mist. "_Great," she gave a shaky humourless laugh. "Do you have any idea how foolish I feel right now?" she dashed away her tears, trying to find comfort once again in her anger. "Do you even care that you've trampled my trust or that you've ruined any chance we ever had of being together? Or is that a small price to pay knowing you did your job the way Sonny wanted?"**x**_

_Jason could feel desperation clawing at his senses as the weight of her words settled. "I tried to warn you. I told you that there would be things that I can't tell you. Come on, I didn't like that I was hurting you and I was keeping secrets from you, but lives were at stake, and that's just part of my job."**x**_

"_Where does the _truth_ fit in? Or the _trust_?" she demanded. "I turned myself inside out to prove that I deserved _both_ from you. And not only did you go and throw it in my face, you do something that makes it _impossible_ for me to trust you!"**x** She turned away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing his words tear her apart. _

_Jason tried to reach for her hand not surprised that she refused to let him touch her but rather by the pain that struck deep within his heart. He could see her drawing within herself, using her anger to build an insurmountable wall between them, and that scared him more than he cared to admit. "Look, y-y-you have a right to be mad, but just try to understand that this had nothing to do with you."**x** _

_Elizabeth whipped around, her eyes acid pools of anger. "Nothing to do with me?" her voice was razor sharp. "It had everything to do with me, Jason! Sonny is my father! This is my world, too!"_

_She gave him a mutinous glare as she hissed, "Uh-uh, no, sorry. I'm here, and I'm in it, and I __count!__"**x**_

_She broke off and gave another mirthless chuckle. "You know what the ironic thing is?" Jason's distressed blue eyes lifted to hers in question. "It's that you actually did tell me the truth – I just didn't want to hear it. When you kept pushing me away and you warned me about who you _really_ are I should have _listened_ instead of making you up in my head. But you are Sonny's..." she broke off as the tide of her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. "Sonny's enforcer – first, last, _always_. I hope it's enough."**x**_

And now here she stood, eyes locked with the man himself. Michael Corinthos Jr. was alive and no worse for the wear. Clad as usual in a dark expensive suit, dark curls slicked back with as rigid control as he exuded over the people in his life; he stood just by his bar, a seemingly ever present tumbler of scotch in his hand. His eyes were watchful, trying to gauge her mood upon Johnny's announcement of her arrival.

He was the man who had given her life, who had read stories to her at night, kissed her booboos and promised her the world. He was the man who had helped to make her as strong as she was, encouraged her to follow her dreams, to listen to her heart, and not let people dictate her life.

He was the man who had helped to break her heart.

"It needed to be quiet."

They were five simple words of woefully inadequate explanation that scalded her very being.

Elizabeth shook her head disbelievingly, hot tears of anger pricking her eyes. "Don't use that as an excuse," she spat. "I've heard it all from your faithful servant, Jason! Don't insult me any more than you already have!"

"Elizabeth –"

"No!" she interjected forcefully. "I spent _two_ weeks of sleepless nights wondering if Jason was alright, culminating with the PCPD showing up at my door to break the news that you were dead!

"What the hell did you expect when next I saw you? When I turned on the television only to have some reporter let me in on the story. Did you honestly expect that I would be so overjoyed by your miraculous resurrection that I would forget the _hell_ that you put me through?

"They told me you were _dead_! Jason took me to the morgue! I identified your body! You bastard, I _grieved_ for you!"

Sonny flinched, pain and regret swimming in his expressive dark gaze, but he said nothing in the face of his daughter's justifiable anger.

Hot tears by now were streaming freely down her cheeks, and her voice was heavy with emotion. "You talk about betrayal… well this is it. I finally understand why you know so much about it. You're the master."

She took a deep shuddering breath and drew herself together. Steel threaded her tone as she tightened her coat more securely around her slender frame. "Consider yourself warned. You and me," she gestured back and forth between them, "we're _finished._"

TBC…

A/N: All text noted with the **_x_** refers to actual show dialogue.

What did you think? Review, please.


	9. Quid pro Quo

Chapter Nine: Quid pro Quo

Summary: The money was secondary. Ric makes Alexis an offer she can't refuse.

A/N: Keep in mind that the original 'universe' for these tales was created in 2002-03, before the panic-room debacle, in fact, before it was even revealed that Sonny and Ric were brothers. Thus, in these stories, Ric is not a psycho – devilishly handsome and somewhat shrewd, but not crazy.

This particular 'glimpse' is around the time of Kristina's illness (2004?). Ric did not have any suspicions about her being Sonny's daughter, but the need to save her daughter's life prompts Alexis to reveal the truth. The family needed to undergo tests for a potential bone-marrow donation, and Ric was the viable candidate. Six months later, Ric is looking for the opportunity to get closer to his nieces.

**Prompt: In Bed with the Devil**

X-X-X-X-X

Drinks, followed by dinner and, throughout the evening, seemingly innocuous small-talk.

He was building up to something, she surmised, and Alexis wanted to cut to the chase. It was a long drive back to the Lake House, and she wanted to be in bed before the eleven o'clock news.

She crossed her long legs primly and fixed him with a stare. "You want something," she assessed shrewdly. Here she was in figure-hugging Nina Laurente and his gaze hadn't wavered from her face all night. If she wasn't resolute in staying away from all things male and Corinthos, she might have been insulted that he hadn't even surreptitiously peeked at her cleavage.

A helpless grin flashed across his handsome face.

"Oh, a smile," she cooed with a hint of sarcasm. "You must _really_ want something from me."

"Are you always this direct?" he took a hasty gulp of his drink, trying to convince himself that it wasn't for courage. They were peers, after all – he wasn't _really _intimidated by her.

"Have you met Elizabeth? She's got half of my genes," Alexis replied, lifting a perfectly arched brow. Her assessing gaze did not waver. "What do you want?"

"Do you like my brother?"

It seemed to appear out of left-field, but it was a question that had been weighing heavily on his mind.

Alexis's eyebrows winged upwards in surprise and she barked an abrupt humourless laugh. "At this very moment?"

"Yes," Ric nodded.

"No. And the feeling's more than mutual, I'm sure," Alexis admitted, not sure why she bothered to answer.

"Do you love him?"

"What?" she sputtered. "I just said I don't like the man. How can I _love_ him if I don't even _like_ him?"

He shrugged. "They're not mutually exclusive. You can love someone without necessarily liking them." He cocked his head thoughtfully. "You _must_ have loved him at one time, Alexis. There's just too much baggage between you two."

Alexis scowled. This was getting a little deeper than she was comfortable with.

"So?" he asked again, "do you love my brother?"

She shrugged, and this time she took a gulp of alcohol to fortify herself. "We have two children together," Alexis answered reluctantly. "I'm sure that part of me will always love him because of our daughters."

She frowned, discomfited to have revealed something so personal to a veritable stranger, even if he was practically family.

An uncomfortable silence fell, as they both pondered the significance of her confession.

Ric was the first to break the tension. "I love him, too. Rest assured, I am also more than aware that the feeling is not mutual," he added with a self-deprecating laugh.

There was a pregnant pause. "Do you know that I have no idea of what my mother looked like?" he revealed softly. "I don't know how she smiled, how her voice sounded, how she smelled. I have no memories of her. No reminders, no connections… except to a brother who probably wishes I didn't exist."

Alexis shook her head solemnly. "I wouldn't be so sure. Every time he looks at you, he sees Adela. Because of that, Sonny could never hate you."

"He doesn't see Adela when he looks at me, Alexis, he sees _Trevor_, my father," Ric contradicted. "Sonny hears him ordering our mother to make a choice – one son or the other, because she couldn't keep them both.

"No matter what I do," he mused thoughtfully, "whether I take a couple bullets, or donate some bone marrow to his daughter, he'll never be able to shake that voice from his head, or the image of our mother lying crumpled at the foot of a flight of stairs."

Ric frowned and took a hasty drink. "I need to make peace with the fact that my brother and I may never be close. We won't meet for drinks or dinner, or talk about women. The only thing we'll probably ever share is DNA."

Alexis shuddered at the raw emotion in his voice. It was discomfiting to realise just how alike the two brothers were at the core, despite glaringly opposite facades. She steeled herself in order to steer the conversation back on track. "Be grateful," Alexis said shortly. "Michael Corinthos Jr. is brash, selfish and _dangerous_."

_Physically and mentally._

"You've got the scars to prove it."

_We both do. _

His were physical manifestations on his chest; hers metaphorical wounds still raw and bruised on her heart.

"Being close to him is not all it's cracked up to be. He destroys nearly everything he touches." Her ego stung at the bitterness that clung to her tone.

Ric watched her thoughtfully. "Did he destroy you?"

_Very nearly._

"I didn't give him the chance to," she lied.

"Be that as it may," Ric answered after another pregnant pause, "he's still my brother, and the father of your children, and we _both_ love him."

Alexis looked away. "To our detriment," she replied, not denying what they both knew to be the truth. "He is wholly undeserving of my love or _yours_ for that matter."

Ric gave a sad smile.

"So," Alexis began briskly, "you didn't invite me to dinner to have a heart-to-heart about your brother, you want something from me. What is it?"

This time, Ric's smile was full of genuine mirth. "A partnership," he replied. "The door to my mother is closed through my brother, but part of her legacy lives on in her grandchildren. I want to get to know my nieces, Alexis," he explained. "And it doesn't hurt that you're almost as good a litigator as I am."

Alexis's eyes narrowed at the crack, instinctively knowing he believed everything he was saying. Like his brother he, too, was arrogant. "I'll choose to believe that the alcohol and previous emotional confessions have gone to your head and let that comment slide."

Ric flashed another grin.

"But why a partnership, Ric? If you wanted to get to know Elizabeth and Kristina all you had to do was ask. What's in it for _me_?"

"A share in the million dollars in retainers that I would bring to the practice for a start," he replied evenly.

Alexis cocked her head in definite interest. As a Cassidine, a million was a drop in the hat for her, but she was curious about what clients would contribute to such a monetary coup.

Ric's smile widened at her interest and devilish mischief suddenly glinted in his rich coffee-brown eyes at a sight behind her. Glancing behind, she was only momentarily confused as the maitre'd at the dining-room entrance stepped aside to reveal none other than Sonny and Carly. Husband and wife were dressed to the nines for a night on the town.

"Everything is just as you requested, Mr. Corinthos. If you'll follow me," he invited, "I'll show you to your table, sir."

Alexis imagined she could feel the intensity of his glare on the back of her neck as he stepped ever closer in their direction.

As they locked eyes, Ric gave his brother a mocking nod of acknowledgement. Sonny's scowl was mirrored by his wife's as Carly caught sight of Alexis, but he said nothing as they were escorted to their table in an intimate corner of the room.

Alexis's brow wrinkled and she took a deep sip of her wine, steadfastly ignoring the fact that Sonny's intense gaze had not wavered from their table, and the knowing look of his brother across the table from her.

Even with his back to him, Ric instinctively knew that his brother's attention was not on the blonde sitting across from him. Alexis's eyes widened in surprise as some perverse force drove him to slip her hand into his across the table.

On the other side of the room Sonny's scowl darkened.

"On the other hand," Ric continued as if Sonny and Carly's arrival had not halted their earlier conversation, with a boyish smile so similar to his brother it caused her chest to ache, "just imagine, Alexis – you and me together, would _really _piss my brother off!"

TBC…

A/N: Well, what do you think? Review, please!


	10. From the mouth of Steven Tyler

Chapter Ten: From the mouth of Steven Tyler

Summary: Pink is the new black – Jason Morgan's new favourite colour.

A/N: No angst this time around, just a wee bit of fluff, despite the prompt. I was listening to R.E.M. the other day and, for some strange reason, my mind went off on a tangent and I started thinking of _Armageddon _and, by extension, Aerosmith. So, I plugged in the _Oh Yeah! Ultimate Hits_ album, and rocked out to one of my favourite songs, which inspired this story. But a bald-headed Indie rocker was the main catalyst, so thank you, Michael Stipe!

This is an AU, so some things to consider: in 2002, Jason and Elizabeth were sexually active, and she did not move into PH2 to keep an amnesiac Zander out of danger – she was already there.

A brand new story is soon on its way. Look out for _Amor y Sangre _coming soon!

**Prompt: It's the end of the world as you know it!**

X-X-X-X-X

Pink.

It was the colour of Elizabeth's toothbrush sitting next to his green one in the holder on the bathroom sink; the colour of the razor that sat on the shelf in the shower; the colour of her shampoo and conditioner bottles and the colour of the fuzzy robe that hung on the hook on the bathroom door.

Pink.

It was the colour of her toenails – _fuchsia,_ more particularly, as she had haughtily informed him. It was the colour of the watermelon-flavoured lip-gloss she'd needed to reapply after he kissed her in apology for his masculine ignorance; the colour of her flip-flops and the colour of the sundress she'd worn today – the same sundress that currently lay at the foot of the penthouse stairs.

Pink.

It was the colour of the Victoria's Secret bag she'd stuffed into the back of their closet, the one he'd pretended not to notice.

Pink.

It was the colour of the scraps of satin and lace that covered her lithe young body from view. The room was dim but he could see that she had been waiting for him, perched in the centre of their king-sized bed, crisp cotton sheets bunched under her arms. Now she tossed back the sheets and slipped out of the bed. Jason Morgan swallowed heavily.

Pink.

It was the colour of her nipples, straining behind the confines of the demi-cup bra, firm breasts all but spilling over, slender hips swaying seductively as she stalked closer to him.

Pink.

It was the colour that tinged her cheeks and painted her chest in a flush of desire. His blue eyes were hot on her body as he stood by the door, sending shards of awareness shooting down her spine to pool warm and deep in her core.

Jason subconsciously moved to meet her and with a saucy smile, Elizabeth fisted her hands in the soft cotton of his decidedly black t-shirt and tugged him so they were aligned flush from chest to hips, his arousal blatant against the smooth skin of her belly.

Pink.

It was the colour of her tongue as it seductively traced the contour of her lips, plump and moist; the last coherent observation before his mind surrendered and his body took complete possession.

Pink.

It's his new obsession.

TBC…

A/N: Review, please.


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